


Viettely / Forførelse

by ThoseDaysThatWill



Series: The Organizations [4]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Organized Crime, Finnish WJC gold-medal-winning Squad, M/M, POV Alternating, both Jesse and Sami are long-suffering, implied offscreen violence, minimally described onscreen violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-06 15:40:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20293906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThoseDaysThatWill/pseuds/ThoseDaysThatWill
Summary: Patrik sighed. He'd been trailing the guy for a week. That wasn't nearly enough information to report back. At the same time, it was enough for him to do what he was planning to do. The bodyguards would only be a problem if they recognized him....He checked over his gun. He didn't plan to use it but he would if he had to. If his plan didn't work, he knew what the boss' orders would be. The young princeling was a perfect target to make his father fall in line, one way or another. War wasn't ideal, but it would serve their purposes just the same.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The first part of this was previously posted, but has been edited, and the rest is all new. 
> 
> (A note on names: Peter Regin's father's name is Regin Jensen. Peter had said in interviews, that it's an old Danish tradition to use your father's first name as your last name. I've never seen any other Danish player do it, but he does it. And I'm _still_ not positive that they don't actually have organized crime ties. Heinz Ehlers was Peter's coach in Denmark.)

Patrik leaned back in the seat, trying to stretch his legs as best he could, which wasn't much. He'd been sitting in the car for too long, and no matter how 'luxury' they marketed that model to be, there was never enough leg room, in his opinion. He glanced at the clock and gave a low groan, it had been three hours already. What the fuck was he doing in there all this time?! No one took three hours to eat a meal. He was tempted to drive around back again, just to make sure his car was still in the parking lot, but he knew it was. There was only one exit and he could see that clearly from where he was. Whatever was happening in there, Patrik was sure he hadn't left. At least he hadn't driven away. If he'd been made and his target had snuck out the back, there wasn't much he could do about that.

Keeping the door in his peripheral vision, he looked over his notes. He understood the importance of the assignment. Those small country's organizations were just waiting around to be taken over and absorbed into one of the big families, it was just about the right blackmail or the right murder. Either way, he understood that getting in close with the leader's son was a really solid start. Not only would it get the boss needed information to take over, but it would help Patrik rise faster in the ranks. He was young, but that didn't mean he wanted to wait around to raise his rank slowly, he wanted to do it on his terms, on his feet not his back, and in the biggest way possible. This assignment gave him ideas for how he was going to do that. So he took it very seriously.

  * _Target eats dinner at 1800 every night. E__ats alone? Arrives alone, leaves alone. Usually two hours. _
  * _Target frequents same clubs most nights. (List attached.) Always has two bodyguards close by. _
  * _Target lives alone, says maid. (Bodyguards? Never visible.) Always returns to apartment by 0400._
  * _Target's fathers never visit. Phone only? Or at dinner? Never seen together on purpose?_
  * _Adult male, 20s?, often visits target in the afternoon. Keeps face covered by hat. (brother? lover?)_
  * _Target does not seem to have an outside job, but shops frequently so has money. (ha)_

Patrik sighed. He'd been trailing the guy for a week. That wasn't nearly enough information to report back. At the same time, it was enough for him to do what he was planning to do. The bodyguards would only be a problem if they recognized him. He'd made a small name for himself a few years back, but it was mostly word of mouth, and he was fairly sure it was only back home in Finland. If they had ever crossed the Baltic to visit his country, he doubted they frequented the kind of place he did back in the day. All the same, if the fake name he was going to give the guy didn't pass muster, he'd have to regroup in a hurry. He checked over his gun. He didn't plan to use it but he would if he had to. If his plan didn't work, he knew what the boss' orders would be. The young princeling was a perfect target to make his father fall in line, one way or another. War wasn't ideal, but it would serve their purposes just the same.

Movement from the front of the restaurant caught his eye and he sat up straighter. There he was, finally, making his way to the car his driver had brought around the front of the building. Patrik had a feeling that using the driver was an order from his fathers, because when he went out to the clubs, he always took one of his own (admittedly nice) sports cars. The black town car pulled into traffic and Patrik kept his eyes on it until he could start his own engine and follow at a safe distance. He knew the car would be heading back to the target's apartment building, but he always followed, just to make sure.

The building had a guardhouse and a gate, which swung open for the town car without so much as the driver rolling down the window. Patrik, of course, didn't follow him inside. He would have, with speed, been able to make it through, but that was attention he didn't want to bring to himself. Not yet anyway. He kept driving and pulled into the parking lot of a coffee shop to regroup. Tonight was as good as any a night to put his plan into motion. He'd have to go back to the hotel to shower and change, but because he didn't want to arrive at the same time as the target, he knew he had well over an hour to wait. He took out his cellphone as he started the drive back to his hotel.

The call was answered on the second ring, "This had better be good."

Patrik laughed, "Miss me?"

Sami's tone was bone-dry, "Of course not. Why would I? I'm stuck here in god-knows-where, with _Mikko_. I'm truly blessed."

"Why are you with _Mikko_?!" Patrik ignored whatever tone that came out in because he hadn't meant it as anything but surprise. Honest.

Sami laughed, "Because I wasn't about to fly to the States alone, and you abandoned me."

"I didn't _abandon _you, I'm on special assignment." Patrik pointed out.

Sami gave a short sigh, "So why'd you call me?"

"You always know what everyone's up to. Have you heard from anyone?" Patrik's tone wasn't exactly worried, but it might have been close.

Sami scoffed again. "So you're just using me for information."

"As usual. Since you won't let me use you for your good looks." Patrik laughed.

He gave a groan, "Why are you _like that? _And why do we put up with it?"

"You'd miss me if someone offed me." Patrik sing-songed.

"Don't even joke about that, asshole." Sami snapped.

Patrik gave a properly chastised sigh, "Sorry. Anyway, what's the news?"

"The boss has been sending out scouting parties all over the States. All the scouting parties are from our crew. I figure because we're inconspicuous and dispensable. He can always close down another one, if he wants another set like us." Sami sounded more jaded than he really was, so Patrik let it go. 

"Do you know who went where? And with who?" He asked.

Sami made a verbal head-shaking sound, "I've only heard from some of us. You know Jesse is back home and I think Kasperi is still in Canada. Roope's got that _kid_ with him in Texas. The boss wants that territory _badly_, but no one knows why. Aleksi and Joni are in Chicago, and they're not getting anything out of it. Veini and Niko were in Ohio, but I think they've moved on from there. Sepe is here, too, in the southern part ironically, somewhere called North Carolina, and I don't think he's alone, but I'm not sure. You know how he is about that, I'm just glad he told me anything. And I'm in Colorado."

"Where is that?" Patrik asked.

Sami shrugged verbally, "In the northern part of the country. Lots of mountains. It's a nice city."

"Colorado is a city?" Patrik didn't think that sounded right, but he didn't know enough about American geography to be sure.

"No, _Denver_ is the name of the city. Why aren't you suffering with us here in the States? Why do _you_ get a special assignment?" Sami's voice wasn't exactly a whine-- he'd never whine-- but it was close.

Patrik laughed, "Because I have a very special skill set that is necessary here. One that _you _clearly don't have."

Sami scoffed, "There's nothing you can do that I can't, except-- _oh_. Well, if the boss needed _that_, why didn't he send Roope? I thought you didn't want to do that anymore."

"Finesse and patience are part of it, too." Patrik pointed out with a dry chuckle. "Who else does he have to send? How do I say no to an order?"

"Oh well, that explains that." Sami didn't sound like he approved, but that wasn't surprising. Patrik knew it didn't come from a place of disgust, but of worry. 

"Seducing doesn't mean I have to fuck the guy." Patrik wasn't sure if he was trying to convince Sami or himself.

Sami schooled his tone, "Of course. Who are you seducing?"

Patrik sighed, "If I tell you, you can't tell _anyone. _Especially Mikko. Do you promise?"

Sami was quick to respond, "I swear. You know you can trust me. You always have."

He sighed again, "Yeah, I know. Alright. My target is the son of one of the small organization's bosses."

"Which country?" Sami's voice was low, but he was clearly hanging on his every word.

Patrik paused for a moment, to take in a deep breath. "Denmark."

. . . .

"Is he still out there?" Nikolaj leaned back in his chair, glancing to the window, despite the fact he knew the curtains would be drawn. The curtains were always drawn before they sat down to dinner. He wondered why the restaurant had such large street-facing windows, if they always kept the curtains drawn. He wasn't so naive as not to know _why_ they had to draw them, but he didn't know why the restaurant didn't just change the set-up. They charged enough for their meals to be able to afford a little construction, so Nikolaj wouldn't have to look at those ugly green draperies every day. Today it was just him and Peter at the small table near the window, but often it was the whole immediate family sitting down for a meal at the long table by the wall.

Peter scoffed, "He hasn't let you out of his sight in a _week_."

Nikolaj sighed. He knew that. He'd often spotted the black car, always far enough away that he couldn't clearly make out the driver, but close enough that he knew he was being watched. "He hasn't made a move either. What's the point? So he knows what clubs I go to and where I buy my groceries. So what? What is he going to do with that? He can't move on me in any of those places, they're too public, and he can't get into my apartment or here. I don't get what his angle is. If he was going to hit me, don't you think he would have at least made a move by now? How long does he need to watch to take a shot?"

"I don't think he's here to hit you. The Finns aren't that stupid." Peter shuffled the lettuce around in his dish, but didn't eat it. "They know we'd retaliate hard and they can't afford a war. The have bigger problems right now. I have a pretty good idea what's his plan is."

Nikolaj raised an eyebrow. He hadn't even known the guy in the car was a Finn, and he didn't know how Peter knew either. He also didn't know what Finland's bigger problems were, which pissed him off. But he wasn't about to let on that Peter knew something he didn't. "You plan on sharing it with me?"

Peter laughed, "I could let it be a surprise if you'd rather."

He took in a deep breath, but he knew from experience that if he showed the slightest hint that Peter was annoying him, he'd never get anywhere. Big brothers were like that, and being the youngest, Nikolaj got the worst of it. They weren't related by blood, but that didn't matter. They'd been raised as brothers, and with the same goal in mind, to keep Denmark's organization going strong. They were a small country, and because of that, had a small presence, but in the long run, their stability and intelligence won out over numbers, and they made more money than some of the bigger nations. Their fathers, together, had done well by their country for decades, and it was getting close to the time when Peter would step into the leadership role, and Nikolaj would be there to help him. Definitely not in _exactly_ the way that his dad helped Peter's, but where the organization was concerned, _similarly_.

"I hate surprises," Nikolaj reminded him.

"Clearly, your shadow didn't get that memo, because I'll bet you that's what he's planning to do sometime soon." Peter tossed his fork down, "And you're going to let him."

Nikolaj looked up at him, "I'm going to _let _him surprise me? Why?"

Peter smirked, "Not just surprise you. You're going to let him do a lot more than that. But I'm going to tell you everything you need to know about him first."

. . . .

Patrik had been looking in the mirror for much longer than even he usually did. Frustrated, he snapped a picture and sent it to the group text:

> _Do I look easy?_

The replies came back quickly:

> Y_ou always look easy._

_> I'd hit that. _

_> Do you want to look easy?_

_> Not easy enough. _

_> You ARE easy. _

Patrik sighed and sent back the middle-finger emoji to all of them before tossing his phone aside. They were no help at all. His eyes went back to the mirror. The jeans were right, they fit him perfectly, he'd paid enough for them to make sure that was true. The t-shirt was just tight enough, but not too tight. Too tight looked like he was for sale, which wasn't what he was going for these days. But too loose wouldn't catch anyone's eye, which _was _what he was going for. He wanted to catch as many eyes as he could. He would be lying if he didn't admit that there were some butterflies in his stomach at the idea of putting himself out there like that in a club full of _Danes_. Sure the Finnish organization was bigger, but theirs was ruthless and dangerous. Their leaders were _slightly_ psychotic and their sons weren't any more sane. Everyone knew to give the Danes a wide berth, and here Patrik was trolling for one. 

When the phone rang, Patrik jumped. And then cursed himself for being so much on edge. Everything would work out. It wasn't like it was the first time he'd done something like this. He grabbed for the phone and couldn't help but smile at the name splashed across the top. Out of all of them, of _course _he'd be the one to call. He answered, "Hey."

Jesse sighed before he spoke, "You're not going back to it, are you?"

Patrik couldn't help but chuckle, "No. I'm on assignment. I told you that."

"Yeah, but you didn't tell me much. What's the assignment?" He asked with just the _slightest _hint of suspicion in his tone.

It was Patrik's turn to sigh, "I still can't tell you. But listen, I'm not going back to it. I'm not doing anything like that. You working?"

Jesse gave a short huff, just to let Patrik know he was fully aware he was trying to change the subject, and he was going to allow it, but he wanted Patrik to know he knew. Patrik couldn't help the smile, but he didn't say anything. "Not tonight. Got two small-times cleaned up last night, though."

"Good. If I get one of those assignments like Sami and Roope have, you're coming with me, okay?" Even talking about the idea made Patrik wish he had Jesse with him then to watch his back. He was the best backup in their whole group. If he thought Jesse could get there in time, he would have considered asking him to back him up, just for the night. He glanced at the clock. It was less than a two hour flight, and a cheap one at that. It wasn't fair to ask him, but...

Jesse gave a short laugh, "Yeah, sure. You know I've got your back whenever."

Patrik didn't say anything for a moment and then spoke slowly, "Jesse..."

"Yeah? What's wrong?" He could so clearly see Jesse sitting up, his hand instinctively heading to his holster, despite the fact there was nothing he could do across the miles. That was his way though, draw down first, ask questions later. "I know that tone."

Patrik sighed, "Relax. I just hate going into something like this without backup." 

Jesse groaned, "You're going into something so dangerous you can't tell me about it and you're doing it _alone? _Are you nuts?" 

Patrik snorted, "We already know the answer to that." He sat down on the edge of his bed, with a sigh, "It's been all surveillance before tonight." 

"Where are you?" Jesse asked, and Patrik could hear the change in his tone. There was a sharp edge to each word, as if accented by the drag of a knife against a whetstone. Jesse was probably the most easygoing of all of them, so when his voice took that turn, they knew to listen. He and Patrik were a little younger than the rest of them, and because of that, they'd come to rely on and protect each other just a little more. 

All the same, Patrik didn't respond right away. He'd told Sami because _someone _had to know where he was in case he didn't come back, but that didn't mean he wanted everyone to know. Honestly he hadn't wanted to tell even Sami, but they did have a rule about that, and that had always been Sami's role. He was good about keeping quiet, too. Not that he thought Jesse would gossip-- he wouldn't if he asked him not to-- but secret mission, mean _secret mission, _until it succeeded. "_Jes_..."

"Where. Are. You?" He repeated, just as sharp, much colder now. It took _a lot_ to get him angry, and he wasn't there yet, but he was close. 

Patrik sighed, "Denmark." 

Jesse groaned, loud and long, "Fuck you, Pate, _alone?! _You went the fuck to _Denmark _alone?! If fucking Regin doesn't kill you, I'm going to!" 

"Anything else?" Patrik asked, trying to keep the laugh out of his voice. 

Jesse took in a deep breath, "Yes. I am so fucking pissed that you wouldn't tell us-- tell _me _where you were going! What if something happened? How would we even know? That's not how we work and you know that! You _better _have told Sami. But that's not even the point! You go into enemy territory-- and _that _enemy, they're fucking psychotic! You go into psychotic enemy territory _alone _and then text us about what you're _wearing_?! Who the fuck cares what you're wearing?! And where the fuck are you going to conceal in that outfit?! Because if you even tell me you're going to go into fucking psychotic enemy territory unarmed _and _without backup, I'm going to fucking kill you!"

Throughout the rant, Patrik sat with his eyes closed, picturing exactly how Jesse was pacing the length of their living room, one hand holding the phone to his ear and the other waving around, accenting each important word and most of the curses. They'd shared an apartment since they had joined up. They'd all rented apartments in the same building that the boss owned, and even if they were making good money now, none of them loved the idea of living alone enough to move out. Safety in numbers, they had said. Back in the day, it was all about having someone that noticed if you didn't come home by sunrise. Nowadays it was just comfortable.

"Is that it?" Patrik asked, once silence had settled.

Jesse huffed, "Yes."

"I'll be fine." Patrik promised, though even to his own ears it sounded unconvincing.

Jesse took in a slow, deep breath, and let it out, "Pate... where's your gun?"

"I can't go into a Danish club, with my Finnish accent, _armed_." Patrik pointed out.

Jesse let out a low growl, "You can't go into a fucking _Jensen-Ehlers_ Danish club with your fucking Finnish accent _alone and unarmed_ either!"

Patrik sighed. He did have a point there. "Okay, okay. You win. I'll go out tomorrow. It's only two hour flight and there's cash in the safe."

"It's much easier when you agree. I had my go bag ready, but it would have been a pain in the ass to figure out _which _club you were going to behind your back." He could hear the creak of the metal door and Jesse rummaging around inside. "You do _have _your gun, right?"

"Of course I do. And yes, I've checked it and kept it up. I don't need _that _lecture again." Patrik tone conveyed exactly how much he was rolling his eyes.

Jesse scoffed, "Good. And you're not going to go out until I get there?"

Patrik hesitated, but nodded, "Surveillance, that's all. I _promise_."

Jesse arrived at 6am the next morning, and Patrik was waiting in the airport for him. That he was wearing the same clothes from the picture the day before clearly meant that he hadn't slept yet. Jesse gave him a disapproving onceover, but didn't comment on it. They didn't say much of anything as Patrik drove him back to his hotel. Once inside, Patrik dropped down to the bed and promptly fell asleep. At some point, Jesse had joined him in bed, and Patrik found himself burrowed against him. It was warm and comfortable, and there was absolutely nothing sexual about it. It was exactly what he needed to calm whatever anxieties still remained about his mission. Patrik had trained himself to only sleep a few hours at a time, but he stayed exactly where he was long after he woke up, just to enjoy the feeling.

"So what's the plan?" Jesse asked, even before he'd opened his eyes. 

Patrik laughed, "Who _plans?" _

Jesse rolled his eyes behind his eyelids, "_Smart _Finns who are in Denmark and don't want to get shot."

"Is that us?" Patrik asked, flopping onto his back to stare up at the ceiling.

"I'm comfortable right now, or I'd smack you." Jesse turned his head to look at him, finally opening his eyes, "What's the plan?" 

Patrik sighed, "My assignment is to get close to...." He trailed off, bracing himself for Jesse's reaction, "the youngest princeling, Nikolaj."

Jesse shoved him so hard and so fast that even his bracing did nothing at all for him. He found himself on the floor in a tangle of his own arms and legs, looking up at Jesse's glare. "You son of a bitch." Jesse snapped, and _actual _anger crossed his face for just a moment. Patrik had never seen that before.

Patrik looked abashed, but it lasted all of a minute. "You ready to hear the rest of the plan?"

Jesse shook his head, "You were _seriously _going to go after the fucking _son _of the fucking _boss _of Denmark _alone?!"_

"When you say it like that... it sounds kinda stupid." Patrik admitted.

Jesse made a frustrated sound, "Because it _is _stupid!" He took in a deep breath, "Okay, what's _our _plan?"

Patrik climbed back up to the bed, resting against the headboard. He grabbed his notebook from the nightstand, looking over his notes as he spoke, "I've been trailing him for a week, but I didn't make contact yet. I figure the best place to do it is at one of his clubs. He goes out almost every night, all places his parents own. I sure as fuck hope he dances, because otherwise I have to _talk _to him. And I don't think that's going to get very far. You know I can seduce anyone I want, but... he's a little prince. He's not going to fall for the usual lines with my accent. I've got it down to almost nothing but I still think he'll pick up on it. A normal person wouldn't, but he's not normal." 

Jesse snorted a laugh, "That's for damn sure. You know what they say about him, right?" 

Patrik glanced over to him, "What do they say?"

"That he was _made_ when he was _twelve_." Jesse reported, with a tone somewhere between ridicule and reverence. 

Patrik scoffed, "I don't think even the Danes give twelve year olds guns." 

Jesse shrugged, "You don't know they don't. Does he have bodyguards?" 

Patrik nodded, "Two." 

Jesse closed his eyes for a moment and took in a deep breath, "I just keep being in _awe_ of how stupid you are." 

"High praise coming from you." He flashed him a grin, "Okay, okay, my plan wasn't the best one before, but now, it's perfect. We've got this." He tossed his notebook aside, climbing off the bed, to stand and stretch, "We should grab food first."

"That's the first good idea I've heard from you so far." 

. . . . 

Nikolaj had found himself, the night before, scanning the crowd in the club, for someone that looked like he didn't belong, that looked like he was looking for him. Peter had said he'd make a move soon, and Nikolaj knew from experience that Peter was usually right. But every time he spotted someone that _seemed _Finnish, the guy didn't approach him. They didn't get a lot of Finns, but plenty of Swedes, and sometimes it was hard to tell them apart. At the clubs he favored, the bouncers knew that once he'd seen him walk through the door, they were to scrutiny those allowed in a little harder, which was why Nikolaj had taken the precaution of using the back door, but it didn't help. It had been a boring night and he'd gone home alone. 

Tonight, he told himself, he wouldn't think about the guy. He was going to enjoy himself. He'd never been subtle in the clubs, because he didn't have to be. His fathers owned them, he had never even considered paying for his drinks or the drinks he 'bought' whoever looked interesting. He spent more time wandering through the crowds in the main room, because he found the VIP areas dull and predictable. There were all the prostitutes and intoxicating substances one could want, but none of those things held his interest for very long, and everyone there knew exactly who he was. No one there would _dare _turn him down. In the main room, sometimes he could blend in. That is, when he could slip the two large black-suited gentlemen that were paid to keep their eyes on him at all times. Sometimes the lectures he received the next morning were worth it.

He leaned against the bar, slowly swishing the amber liquid around his glass. The room was packed and thus warm, and the jacket he had on didn't help matters. His father wanted them to dress well when they were out representing the family. He hated jeans at all, but thankfully Peter had talked him into allowing them at least. There was just no way to dance in slacks, not the way he did anyway. They'd won on the jeans, but lost on the jackets. Thankfully even his father wasn't a tie kind of person anymore, so they got away with t-shirts under the jackets. At some point in most nights, when he was sure his fathers wouldn't walk through the door, Nikolaj would lose the jacket. That this negated his ability to conceal was hardly an issue in his own club. But it was still too early for that, so he dealt with being warm.

The tall, well-defined blonde caught his eye as soon as he walked through the door. He wasn't carrying, Nikolaj's well trained eye caught that much, but it wouldn't have been out of place with how he held himself. He was in and probably made, but there was something else about him, something Nikolaj couldn't quite place. The guy with him was a little shorter (though Nikolaj had no room to talk), a little less sure of himself, and most definitely carrying, probably more than the one he didn't take too many pains to conceal. Nikolaj saw one of his guards taking steps towards them and he quickly waved him off with a slight shake of his head. The man followed the order, but clearly wasn't happy about it. He knew the bouncer that let the armed stranger into the club wouldn't be working another shift after allowing that. It was a coin toss as to if he'd still be breathing tomorrow, but he'd let his bodyguards deal with that.

Nikolaj's eyes stayed on the first guy, the taller of the two, just like he was supposed to. That was him, Patrik Laine, he was _positive. _They didn't have a clear picture, just a vague description, but he knew. The other, he didn't have a name for him, stood back a little, looked at everything, but said nothing. If he wasn't a bodyguard, he was playing one tonight. When they came closer to the bar, Nikolaj took a long drink from his glass. He heard him order a Coke, and tried not to laugh when the bartender asked, in Danish, what he wanted with it. He watched Patrik frown and shake his head that he didn't understand, repeating his order. With a laugh, Nikolaj leaned over and spoke to the stranger in heavily accented English, "He wants to know what you want _in _your Coke."

Patrik looked at Nikolaj, his eyes just a little wide, and _so fucking blue_. A slow smile spread over his lips, settling into something that was more smirk than anything else. It fit him perfectly and Nikolaj felt the slightest pang somewhere south of the border, but of course he wasn't going to let that show. "How do I tell him," his English was good, but the Finnish vowels still came through, "that I want _nothing _in my Coke."

Nikolaj smiled, "Jeg vil bare have cola, din idiot."

Patrik laughed, "I heard 'idiot' in there. I'm not here to get into trouble. At least not _this _early in the evening." He leaned in a little closer with that easy smirk.

Nikolaj felt his cheeks heat, but he kept his expression even. The flush certainly wasn't from his lines, he'd heard a lot better. But there was something about him, something that made Nikolaj feel just a little off-kilter. He didn't like it, but he could control it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of his bodyguards move a little closer to him, his jacket unbuttoned, but he didn't speak, he knew better than to interfere. "What _are _you here for?" Nikolaj asked.

He gestured to the dancefloor, "I'm here to have a good time."

Nikolaj snorted a laugh, "My club is good for that." 

"_Your?_" Patrik raised an eyebrow with such sincerity that Nikolaj might have almost believe him. If he didn't know better. Thankfully, he _did _know better, he was prepared for him. Peter had told him everything they could discover from his past and he'd already decided how he was going to handle him. Though, now he now knew this guy was a lot better than he thought he'd be. He might not have done subtle well while he was tailing him, but he was an exceptionally good liar. He made a note of that.

Nikolaj turned to the bartender, giving a causal order in Danish. He looked back to Patrik when the glass was placed in front of him, "My treat." 

He picked up the glass, taking a long drink, "Nice of you. Maybe I'll see you out there?" He left the glass on the bar before slipping into the crowd. 

Nikolaj let out a long sigh, watching him until he couldn't see him anymore. 

"Sir?" The Danish was almost startling after the English conversation, "Your fathers would want me to disarm his man." 

Nikolaj shook his head, not taking his eyes off the dancefloor, "No reason to tip our hand yet. It's fine. We know what he's doing." 

The bodyguard opened his mouth, but quickly closed it again. He didn't dare ask out loud the question that Nikolaj was asking himself. _Do you know what you're doing? _Part of him worried that the answer was no, but it was much too late to turn back now. Besides, the part of him that was sure he had it all under control was much louder. He tossed his jacket over the end of the bar, and walked towards the dancefloor. 

. . . . 

"You're nuts." Jesse's voice was low against his ear, even if he was speaking Finnish and it was likely no one around them could understand. 

Patrik laughed, "Still not news." He turned so he was dancing with Jesse, his head dipped down towards his shoulder, "Did you _see _him? He's fucking _gorgeous."_

Jesse groaned, "Stop thinking with your dick! You're here for information, not his ass."

Patrik shrugged, "Why can't I get both?"

"Because we don't _do _that." Jesse pointed out. 

Patrik sighed. He knew better than to argue the point. Their shared past had been their past, but some of them had dealt with it better than others. Patrik had always done what he had to do to get by, but he didn't let it bother him. Nothing he had done bothered him, he wasn't ashamed or embarrassed that he _liked _sex and he had no issues using it to get what he wanted or needed. The same wasn't true for Jesse. He had always protected them, and that was what he was best at, being intimidating or acting on those threats. Anything else he'd done out of desperation weren't things he was comfortable accepting. Joining up, to him, meant he wouldn't have to do that again. It was like that for some of their crew, but not all of them. And Patrik was firmly in the latter. 

He turned from Jesse without a word, dancing with strangers, mostly letting the music move his body. There were many hands on his hip, his shoulder, his chest, his ass, but never for too long. He caught Jesse move out of the crowd, his hand resting a little too obviously on his gun. Part of Patrik wondered if he was more wishing he could shoot _him_ rather than Nikolaj, and the idea made him laugh. His dancing partner, a nameless faceless nobody, laughed too, but Patrik only pushed past him, looking for someone more interesting. He caught sight of his target just as he stepped onto the dance floor. He watched as some of the crowd parted, giving him more space than he needed, while others obviously danced with him, or by him. He saw the moment when Nikolaj noticed him, too, and how he couldn't fully hide his double-take or the blush of his cheeks. This was going to be easier than he thought. 

Patrik slipped up behind him, all too aware of the bodyguards' eyes shooting daggers into his back. As long as they weren't shooting bullets, all lights were green. He slid a hand over Nikolaj's hip and pulled him back against him, "Mind if I step in?" His voice was a low whisper and he felt the shiver it caused. Perfect. Nikolaj didn't respond in words, but Patrik felt him grind back against him and he gave a soft approving moan. He never lost a step, a beat, but he felt his breath picking up as he slid his hand from his side, over his stomach and up to his chest. And he wasn't disappointed in what he found, everything was angular, hard and sharp, and he felt Nikolaj lean back and open up to his touch. That was just a little too _much _for Patrik to keep up all of his composure. "_Vittu_." He whispered, breathy against his neck, "You are so hot."

Nikolaj laughed, "I know." He pressed back against him, in time to the music, and Patrik gave him the moan that deserved. That he was hard, he made no pains to hide, pressing tight against Nikolaj's ass so he could feel every bit of what what he was causing. He slid a hand around to Nikolaj's crotch, pleased to find him in the same state. Slow strokes through the denim earned him low moans. 

"Can we take this somewhere more private?" Patrik murmured into his neck. In their exploration of his body, Patrik's hand had passed over the gun barely concealed in the waistband of his pants, but he was very careful not to linger any longer than he had to. He did raise his eye to find Jesse staring intently at him. He gave him a nod with only his eyes. The whole exchange took less than a second and he was positive that the man in his hands was much too distracted to notice he'd done it. He caught sight of Jesse heading for the back door, pressing a few crumpled bills into the hand of the guard stationed there. Patrik smiled into the kisses he pressed to the side of Nikolaj's neck. 

Nikolaj pulled away from him, taking a few slightly shaky steps before clearly getting ahold of himself. He glanced at Patrik over his shoulder, and then without a word, headed towards the door, nodding slightly as it was opened for him. Patrik followed a step behind, not so much as glancing at the guard, though he could feel the hard onceover and the disapproval as he passed inside. That only made Patrik's smirk grow. He managed to get a look at a couple of _very _occupied booths before Nikolaj grabbed his wrist and directed him through the maze of tables and people. If he hadn't been so singularly focused on the task at hand, the _smell _of the place would have given him a nasty flashback.

He stopped outside a heavy wooden door with a keypad lock. Playing his part to the hilt, Patrik pressed up against him, slipping his hand down between Nikolaj's legs and kept his eyes wide open as he sucked on the side of his neck, watching him enter the passcode in. He gave a small appreciative moan when the door swung open and he was directed into the office. Nikolaj closed and locked the door behind them, which Patrik had to struggle not to react to. He knew Jesse would be pissed, but there was nothing he could do now. He stood up, with his shoulders back as Nikolaj slowly looked him up and down. Nikolaj's tone was cold, but his eyes still showed the passion from the dancefloor, "How much?" 

In the split second he had to think, all he could think of was how glad he was that Jesse wasn't in the room. He was positive that there wasn't any force on earth that could have kept the bullet out of Nikolaj's head if Jesse had heard that question said _that_ way. Patrik hadn't expected the question, of course. He hadn't _planned _to play it that way, but that's not saying he couldn't. Later he'd wonder if maybe subconsciously part of him just worked that way. The dance was very familiar, it was easy. He knew the answer, he knew the game, and honestly he wouldn't mind the extra money since he was planning to fuck him anyway. "Three-fifty. Five-hundred if you want me to spend the night." He heard the words as if someone else was speaking them. "In Euros."

Nikolaj walked behind the desk, keeping Patrik in his peripheral vision, and crouched down to unlock the safe. Patrik stayed where he was, his hands at his side, and didn't bother trying to see the code. It didn't matter anymore. It was clear that Nikolaj had no idea who he was or why he was there. And if he was going to play this game like this, it could only end one way. Wasting time on that safe, and whatever money was it in, wasn't worth it, when he had to get the fuck out of there once he was dead. He watched Nikolaj count out four hundred-euro notes and toss them on the desk. "Consider it a tip. Now take your clothes off." He gestured over to a large leather couch. 

. . . . 

Jesse stared at the door for a long moment. He even started to walk over towards it when a very serious looking man in a black suit stepped in his path, unbuttoned his jacket, and shook his head. Jesse held his hands up, the last thing he wanted was to get into a gunfight in a place this crowded. Especially when he didn't know then exits as well as he should and couldn't get to Patrik in a hurry. He stepped back to his quiet corner, and keeping his eyes on the bodyguard, took out his phone. The line rang for a long minute. 

"Hey, everything okay?" Sami seemed out of breath. 

"No... uh, not really." Jesse admitted, carefully to speak quietly and in Finnish.

Sami sighed, "I don't love hearing that when I'm here in the States and you're home. But what's happening?" 

Jesse paused. "I'm.. not home." 

"Where are you?" Sami's voice was sharper, more alert. 

"Well..." He hesitated, "I can't tell you." 

Sami groaned, "Is this the same 'I can't tell you' place that Pate is?"

"Uh... Maybe."

Sami gave a deep sigh, "Hold on." 

Jesse strained to hear what was being said in the background, but he could only pick out a few words. The strange thing is that all the words he could hear were in English. Last he heard Sami was with Mikko in the States, and he wouldn't speak English on a bet, if he didn't have to. He had no idea who Sami would be speaking English to, but he wanted to know. Jesse was straining so hard to make out the words, that when Sami's voice was a normal phone volume, he jumped. 

"Okay, so you're in Denmark?" Sami sounded more like himself, put together and ready to do something. It made Jesse feel better.

He gave a relieved sigh, "So you know all about it?" At Sami's affirmative sound, he kept going, "So we're at one of Jensen's clubs," Jesse gave him the name and address, and a few directions as he remembered driving them, "And Pate is in a room with Nikolaj Ehlers and the door is locked and some asshole keeps flashing his piece at me every time I get close to the door. So I just want you to know where we are and if you don't hear from us by tomorrow afternoon, tell the boss and kill some Danes for us, okay?" He gave Sami a physical description of everyone that might be the cause of their issues, were they to have any. 

Sami sighed again, "Alright, I've got it all written down. But do me a favor and don't get shot." 

Jesse snorted a laugh, "I do owe you a few, so I'll keep that in mind. Gotta go." 

"Good luck." Jesse was pretty sure Sami sighed yet again before he hung up. 


	2. Chapter 2

Nikolaj would admit that balls-deep in a perfect ass was not where he was at his _most_ strategically brilliant, but he still had control of the situation. However, the man beneath him was _so _good looking, and responded _so _perfectly to everything he did, that it was difficult to remember he was fucking him for a _purpose _and not just to get off. As much as his body was telling him to relax and enjoy the sensations, his brain knew that he couldn't take his eyes off of Patrik even for a few seconds. That wasn't to say he _wasn't _enjoying himself. Patrik fucked exactly like his information said he would, eager and needy, with an air of submission that he didn't actually feel, but could play up like a pro. Nikolaj watched his eyes close and his back arch at just the right moments, the moans sounded real, but the words were in _English_. There was no way this guy actually fucked in English, not when he was _really_ lost in it. He'd heard him swear in Finnish for that second that he was disarmed out on the dancefloor, and that told him what he needed to know about this moment. It was all an act.

As Nikolaj could feel himself getting close to the edge, he leaned forward, bracing himself on Patrik's shoulder, and placed one hand around his throat. Patrik's eyes snapped open and there was a split second of fear that passed quickly into his formulated mask of passion. He held Nikolaj's eyes, and the wanton look was perfect, he couldn't see a single flaw in it. Patrik moaned, "Touch me? I'm close."

"I'm not paying you to get off." Nikolaj growled, giving him the few more strokes needed to get himself over the edge. He was honestly surprised at how hard he came, but he could admit that the whore was good at his job. Still buried inside him, he tightened the grip on his throat, waiting for his own breathing to calm down before he spoke, "You're just here for me to use, _Patrik_. It's all you're good at."

Patrik's eyes went wide for just a second, real lust clearly getting in the way of whatever calm and collected demeanor he thought he had. His hand went to Nikolaj's wrist, but the angle was all wrong for him to do a damn thing about it. "What?"

"I know exactly who you are." Nikolaj gripped his throat just tight enough to make the point that he _could _choke him, but loose enough that he could breathe. He wasn't ready to kill him yet, he had questions. "I know you were following me. What I want to know is why. And you're going to tell me everything, or I'm going to kill you."

It was impressive to see how fast Patrik's head cleared, and his look went sharp and cold. If possible, his eyes were even _brighter_. He didn't struggle against Nikolaj's hand, which was more control that most people would have, and he showed no fear at all, not even a hint of it. Nikolaj was almost impressed with how suddenly composed he was. Patrik took in a slow deep breath, "Can we talk without your cock in my ass?"

Nikolaj actually laughed, "Why? Maybe I like it there."

Patrik's lips quirked into a smile very briefly before the mask snapped back into place, "I'm sure you do. And you're damn good with it. But still..." He shrugged a little.

Nikolaj nodded, pulling out of him, pleased to hear him gasp just a little. He tossed the condom in the trash before tucking himself back into his pants and zipping up. He hadn't taken any of his own clothes off, in case he needed to move in a hurry, but had locked his gun in the desk drawer. _Just in case _he wasn't able to keep the amount of self-control he needed to have, he didn't want the gun accessible to Patrik. On the other hand, making sure that Patrik was completely naked was another precaution he'd put in place. He gestured that he could put his clothes back on, and he watched him dress. Clearly, Patrik hadn't finished, but the situation seemed to at least fix part of that problem for him. He wasn't all the way down, but he sure as hell wasn't 'close' anymore.

Patrik's eyes followed Nikolaj's and he smirked, "It really is cruel to kill a guy after getting him _that_ close and not letting him get off."

Nikolaj scoffed, "Maybe if I like your answers, I'll get someone to come in here and blow you."

Patrik took a seat on the couch, "If you _really _like them, will you do it yourself?"

"You wish." Nikolaj rolled his eyes. Of course Patrik was cocky, he wouldn't have expected any less. He moved behind the desk to retrieve his gun. He felt better once he'd slid it back into its holster. He moved around to sit on the corner of the desk, facing him, but far enough away that Patrik would long since be dead if he made a move towards him. Nikolaj might not have been the fastest draw, but he could handle that. "Start talking."

Patrik shrugged, spreading his hands out, "I don't know what you want me to say."

"Why were you following me?" Nikolaj demanded.

He raised an eyebrow, "Was I following you?"

Nikolaj sighed, and drew his gun, "This is going to take all night if you keep acting stupid. And I'll get bored and just shoot you. And then I'm going to go find your friend, and I'm going to shoot him too, _just _because you pissed me off. And there's not a damn thing your little whore crew could do about it. Now, let's try this again. Why were you following me?"

Patrik's look steeled, and any casualness he'd had was gone. That sure as hell pushed his buttons, Nikolaj noted. Patrik's tone was flat and sharp, "You're the son of the leader of Denmark. Why the fuck do you think I was following you?"

Nikolaj sighed again, and took out his cellphone. His eyes never left Patrik, curious if he really didn't speak any Danish or if that was an act, too. He dialed a starred contact and ordered, "Find hans livvagt. Bring ham til mig. _Ubevæbnet_." He watched Patrik for any sign of understanding, but found none. "I told him to bring your friend here. Maybe he'll give me some answers."

Patrik's demeanor didn't change, "I don't know who you're talking about."

Nikolaj just shook his head. They sat silently, just watching each other until there was at the knock on the door. Nikolaj didn't move, but called out, "Come in." He watched Patrik as the door was opened. He hid it well, but still Nikolaj could see a slight wince when his friend grunted at the gun being shoved in his back. He looked over to see the stranger had what would quickly become a black eye and a bloody lip. He was shuffling more than walking, a sure sign that the soundproofing of the office had blocked the sounds of one hell of a fight that he clearly lost. One of his bodyguards handed Nikolaj the stranger's possessions: a handgun, a cellphone, a wallet, and a switchblade knife. He leaned into report in a very low voice that the guy had managed to incapacitate and probably kill one of their associates before they could subdue him. Lucky for him, it was nothing more than a hanger-on, and not someone worth starting a war over. 

"Have a seat." Nikolaj gestured to the couch where Patrik sat. "What's your name?" He holstered his own gun and flicked the switchblade open, to look at it, nodding approval of the edge. He glanced up at them in time to see Patrik and the stranger have almost a complete conversation just through a couple looks and he wanted to laugh. No idea what he was talking about? That was a joke. Hell, it was probably a joke to call him his 'friend'.

Finally, they both looked back to him, but it was Patrik that spoke, "He doesn't know anything. He just got here."

Nikolaj scoffed, "Of course not. Does your boyfriend speak English?"

Patrik glanced at him and then back to Nikolaj, "He's not my boyfriend, and no, he doesn't."

It pissed Nikolaj off that he couldn't tell if that was a lie or not. He was usually so good at reading people but he couldn't get anything off this guy. With anyone else he would have said it was the truth, but Patrik had already proved he was an exceptional liar. It was safer to assume everything he said was a lie until he could prove otherwise. "He's not your bodyguard, you're not important enough. I know all about you." That may or may not have been true, but it was close enough for the moment. "Now listen carefully. The first time you don't answer one of my questions _truthfully_, he dies. He's killed one of mine, I have every right to take his life." He pointed the gun, the stranger's own gun, at him. "Do you understand?"

Patrik nodded, his breathing picking up a little. "Yes."

Nikolaj's eyes never left Patrik, but he was sure to keep them both in view, "Good. What's his name?"

"Jesse."

Nikolaj tried to remember if that name appeared on the known associates list, but he couldn't place it. He'd only scanned the list anyway, Finnish names never made any sense to him. Too many vowels. It didn't really matter though, he was sure he was one of them just by the way Patrik reacted to him. Peter had said they were a close group. In fact, he'd mocked what a _close _group they were, because that made them an instant liability to each other, and here Patrik was proving him right. "Good. Now, what were you and _Jesse _doing at my club?"

"I came here to meet you." Patrik answered. 

"And him?"

Patrik shrugged, "I didn't want to go to a Danish club alone."

Nikolaj snorted, "Smart. Why were you following me?" 

Patrik took in a deep breath, probably to bite back the sarcastic reply. "To figure out a good time and place where I could meet you."

"Why did you want to meet me?" 

Patrik looked at him for a moment, and very slowly the corner of his lips curled up into something that was dangerously close to a smirk, "To seduce you."

Nikolaj stared at him, "I'm supposed to believe that you were sent to Denmark to _seduce _me?"

Patrik nodded, "You should believe it, because it's the truth. I believed what you said, and I'm not going to risk Jesse's life by lying to you."

Even if Nikolaj wanted to think everything he said was a lie on principle, something in him told him that he could believe, at the very least, _that _was the truth. He didn't know how he knew, but he was _positive_. "What did you get out of it?"

"I didn't even get _off,_" Patrik muttered before he could stop himself. He gave a wry smile, "I had planned to talk to you _after_. To get to know you, get close." 

Nikolaj raised an eyebrow at that. If he hadn't known who he was, part of him wondered if that plan would have worked. He was attractive and a fantastic lay, there wasn't much more Nikolaj needed to keep someone around to bed. What was worse was that he was starting to realize that Patrik had a head on his shoulders and some kind of dry sense of humor, two more selling points for him. It probably _would_ have worked. Of course, he'd never admit that. "You thought your ass would be so good that I'd want to keep you around?"

Patrik shrugged, "Actually, I planned to top, but close enough."

Nikolaj scoffed, "You wish."

"Have you seen you? Yeah, I do wish. You have a nice ass." Patrik wore a very faint smirk. Jesse leaned over to whisper in his ear. Nikolaj caught one of his bodyguards take half a step towards them, but he shook his head, just watching them. He still held the gun at Jesse's head, he wasn't concerned about them making an escape plan. Patrik looked back to him, "He wanted to know what we were saying. He said I look like I'm about to jump you. Do you think I look like that?"

"No, but he didn't see how you were ten minutes ago." Nikolaj pointed out, "When you were begging for it."

Patrik shrugged, "He's seen me do worse with uglier guys." He glanced to Jesse and then back to Nikolaj, "What are you going to do with us?"

"I'd like to send you both back to Finland in a pine box and be done with it. Teach your people to stay the fuck out of my territory. But... wars get messy. And mess costs money. So instead, you'll _make _me some money for my inconvenience. Your people are going to _pay_ for your release. Or... you die. It's as simple as that." He walked over to a closet and pulled out a few lengths of rope, tossing them to his bodyguard, "Bind dem op." He went back to sit on the desk, watching his guards tie Patrik's and Jesse's hands behind their backs, and then bind their ankles together. Neither resisted, and Nikolaj wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed at that.

One of the guards looked back at Nikolaj, "Skal jeg kneblet dem, sir?"

Nikolaj chuckled, "Nej, jeg kan godt lide at høre ham tale." He looked over to the two captives, but caught Patrik's eyes, "He asked if you should be gagged, but I said I like to hear you talk."

Patrik sighed, his tone was emotionless, resigned, the mask was in place and it was seamless, "You have to know that no one is going pay for us."

Nikolaj raised an eyebrow, "Your boss.... probably not. You are just _soldiers_ after all, not worth much. But, your captain? Oh I think he'll pay." He picked up Jesse's cellphone from where he'd deposited it on the desk, "Passcode?"

Patrik looked to Jesse and then back to Nikolaj, "5-7-9-8, but it's not going to help you much."

Nikolaj typed the numbers in and wasn't the least bit surprised to see everything set to factory defaults. A burner phone, damn him. He pulled up the contacts and found only one entry. "Who is _you-vas-ky-la_?" He asked.

Patrik shook his head, "Well, that's a new way to say it. Anyway you mean w_here _is Jyväskylä. It's a city."

Nikolaj glared at him, "Your boyfriend isn't calling a fucking city, so who is that?"

"If you want to untie me, I can check it out for you." Patrik offered.

Responding to Nikolaj's gesture, one of the bodyguards marched up to Jesse, his gun pointed at him for a long moment. Jesse stared him down, and didn't move as the guard flipped the gun over and pistol-whipped him hard. His head snapped to the left and he grunted loudly, it clearly hadn't been the first blow to the head he'd received that night He didn't sit back up right away, and when he did, he was shaking his head slowly. And when Patrik tried to get to his feet in response, the second guard pressed the barrel of his gun to the side of his head until he settled back down. Then without having said a single word, both guards went back to their positions.

"Keep being a smartass. See what it gets you." Nikolaj threatened.

Patrik leaned in towards Jesse, speaking softly, in what Nikolaj assumed was Finnish. He didn't bother trying to listen in. Eventually Jesse nodded, and Patrik's attention was once more on Nikolaj. He sighed, "His name is Sami."

Nikolaj frowned. He was fairly certain that name had been on the list. But he couldn't remember anything about him, if there was anything to know. The information on most of his crew was spotty at best. "He can get a message to your capo, can't he? Does he speak English?"

Patrik nodded, "Yeah, and pretty good Swedish, if you're into that."

Nikolaj gave him a short glare, but put his focus on the phone to dial the contact. It took a surprisingly long time for him to answer.

"Hei?"

"Is this _Sami?"_ Nikolaj asked.

"Yes. Who are you? Where are they?" He asked, in rapid succession.

"I am Nikolaj Ehlers, and your friends are here with me, enjoying my hospitality." Each word was chosen and delivered carefully, his eyes locked tight on Patrik. The very easy way Patrik met his eyes made it almost a challenge, daring him to be the one that had to look away first. And he'd be damned if he did, even when Patrik's boring gaze seemed to be causing reactions that he hadn't expected. Why the fuck did his eyes have to be _so fucking blue?_

He could hear Sami curse under his breath in Finnish. "Why are you calling?" He asked, his voice far too calm and even to be real.

Nikolaj took in a slow deep breath. He had to think about how he'd seen his fathers and his brothers handle this kind of thing. He'd watched them deal with enemies on the phone and in person, he knew what to do. Always charming and polite, calm and direct, but gracious. He could do that just as well as they could. "You need to pass this message on to your captain. Your friends are going to _continue_ to enjoy my hospitality until he fulfills my terms, to the letter." 

"What are your terms?" Sami asked, emotionlessly. 

"A million kroner each. You understand I'm being _very _generous here because your friend has entertained me. If that stops being true, I can't make any promises as to what will happen. I'll text you the wire transfer information. You have twenty-four hours. Do you have any questions?" Nikolaj matched Sami's tone, even if he didn't actually feel as completely calm and emotionless as he was acting. He had a feeling Sami didn't either.

"Can I talk to them?" He asked. 

Nikokaj paused, still holding Patrik's eyes. He wanted to see fear there, or even worry, but he saw nothing. Patrik was sitting up, spine perfectly straight, eyes wide open, but there was absolutely nothing in his expression. He hadn't shut down, he was extremely alert, watching and listening to everything, but it was all tucked so carefully behind a mask that Nikolaj was.... _impressed_. He might have been something else too, but he ignored that. He brought the phone over to Patrik to hold it to his ear, "You have one minute, no more."

Patrik's eyes never left Nikolaj as he spoke into the phone, "Olemme kunnossa." He fell silent, listening. After what was probably thirty full seconds of listening, he looked over to Jesse, breaking eye contact with Nikolaj. He felt something hollow in his stomach that surprised him, but he didn't allow himself to stop to figure out what that mean at the moment. He followed Patrik's eyes to the man sitting beside him.

Jesse had slumped back against the couch and his eyes were closed. He could see that he was still breathing, but he was definitely pale, even for a Finn. Nikolaj kicked his leg, not hard enough to bruise, but not exactly a nudge either. Jesse's eyes snapped open and he started to sit up, but winced. He looked over to Patrik but still didn't say a word. His breathing was clearly labored from just the attempt to sit up. Patrik whispered soft Finnish to him and he relaxed back against the couch, again closing his eyes.

Patrik looked to Nikolaj, "If he dies, you're going to have more on your hands than you can deal with, I _promise_ you." It was the first _real _emotion he had seen from Patrik since he met him, and it was such a murderous fury that Nikolaj had to consciously stop himself from taking a step back. Clearly, he hadn't been off the mark calling him his 'boyfriend', his look reminded him of something he'd seen from his father when his other one had been winged by a stray bullet. But then again, it reminded him of Peter the one time he'd told him about being jumped on the way home from school. Either way, he knew Patrik would follow through. And part of Nikolaj wanted to see him try. 

"We'll have to hope your friends pay quickly, won't we?"

. . . . 

Mikko had been staring intently at his laptop when Sami walked into the room, "Can we do it?" He asked. He had explained the whole situation to him over the phone as he made his way to the hotel, and Mikko had been studying their accounts and finances since then. 

Mikko sighed, "About two-hundred seventy thousand Euros. We _could_._" _He sat back, looking up at Sami, "But..."

"The boss doesn't pay ransoms." Sami sat down on the bed abruptly. 

"He's right." He looked up at him, "It sets a precedent. Once they know they can get this by snatching one of us, what's to stop them from trying again?"

"I don't care about that. It's Patrik and Jesse. We're not leaving them with the _fucking _Danes!" Sami snapped. He didn't swear often, but when he did, he meant it. "We can't just sit here! We need to do something. We need a plan."

Mikko gave him an exhausted look, the last thing they needed was for Sami to get emotional. "Oh do we?" 

Sami let out a long slow breath, "Sorry. I'm just pissed because I _knew _and I didn't stop him."

"I'm pissed you knew, too, but we'll deal with that later." Mikko looked back to his computer, "I have a contact that might be able to help." Hearing the words come out of his mouth, he wanted to take them back. He wanted to say that he made a mistake, he didn't have any contacts. They could just give them the money and be done with it, never tell the boss, sweep it all under the rug. Would the Danes bother to gloat over that amount of money? He doubted it. But the risk was there. The risk was always there that they would take the money and kill them anyway. He didn't know if the boss would go to war over a couple of dead soldiers, even if it was done like this. Maybe. Either way it wasn't ideal. Which brought him back to his contact. He could call in a favor, but at what cost?

Sami was looking intently at him, "_What_ contact?" Sometimes, Sami was too damn perceptive and knew too damn much.

Mikko sighed, "It's a last resort."

"You can't do it. I say we pay them." Sami got up to pace, nervously chewing on his fingernails. Mikko watched him for a minute, because this was a side of him that he'd _never _show the rest of them. It occurred to him just how many of them looked to Sami to keep them together for just five more minutes. That was how, he supposed, he'd become the contact hub. His calm and emotionless surety was what you needed before going on a mission. The respect was earned. 

"I know you do. But this still isn't a democracy, and it's my ass on the line if the boss finds out." Mikko reminded him.

Sami stopped pacing and looked at him, "I don't care."

Mikko gave a humorless chuckle, "I know you don't."

Sami took half a step towards him and for just a second Mikko wondered if he was going to go for his gun. The thought surprised him because he _knew _full well he wouldn't, but all the same, he had wondered. Sami caught the look and kept both of his hands in sight, "We don't have any ideas and we're all the way across the ocean. So this goes one of two ways. One, you use your _contact. _And maybe he gets them out of it, and we _all _owe him. Or maybe he gets them killed because he doesn't give a damn about _any_ of us. Or two, you pay what they want. And maybe the boss finds out, and maybe he doesn't, but he won't kill you for that, and Patrik and Jesse are safe. But listen to me, Mikko. If they die because you don't do something _now_, I'll make sure everyone finds out about you and your fucking _contact. _And you know what will happen. You _and_ he are _dead_." By the time he was finished, Sami was breathing heavy and very flushed, but he'd kept his composure through the whole thing, never once raising his voice.

Mikko's expression wasn't exactly surprise, but at the same time, he hadn't expected _that_. He knew that Sami and Patrik were close, but he didn't expect Sami to put his own life on the line for him like that. Maybe he should have expected it, but he didn't. Sami was right, though. Those were their options, and were he to reach out to his _contact, _there was no guarantee that he'd be able to or _want _to do anything, and there _was_ a guarantee that he'd be one step closer to being drawn back into his web. It was the last thing in the world he needed, for his safety or his sanity. Sami was the only one that knew about him, and it had to stay that way. He took in a long deep breath, "I'm going to pay the money. But Sami... if you ever blackmail me like that again, I'll shoot you where you fucking stand. Am I clear?"

Sami nodded, "Yes, sir."

. . . .

Glancing at a message alert, one of the bodyguards stepped up to Nikolaj and whispered in his ear. Patrik couldn't hear what they were saying, but he could assume it was in Danish. They could have screamed it across the room and he still wouldn't have understood. And honestly, at this point, he barely cared. His shoulders hurt from having had his hands tied behind his back for so long, his feet were all pins and needles, and he was tired and thirsty. Every time he nudged Jesse and saw his eyes flutter open the wash of relief was almost unbearable. He didn't know what had happened before he had been brought in, but he knew that there was something seriously wrong with him.

Nikolaj moved over to them, "Your friends have delivered my money."

Patrik glanced up at him, trying to look as impassive as he possibly could. He didn't feel it, of course, but he hadn't really felt anything but anger for most of the time he'd been in that office. He didn't know how long it had been, it felt like hours, but he couldn't really be sure. "So now you let us go?" He asked, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Nikolaj smirked, "You think I'm going to kill you now?" He shook his head, "I don't know what kind of people you're used to dealing with, _Patrik_, but we Danes still abide by The Code." He hated how he damn near purred his name, and his _first _name at that! In the middle of a life-or-death situation was _not_ the time to find something sexy.

Nikolaj gestured to the bodyguards to pick them up, but Patrik tried to move between them, "Let me help him up." He paused then added, "_Please_. We're both unarmed, we can't do anything. And I don't want your people to make it worse."

Nikolaj seemed to consider this and then nodded. Patrik's wrists and ankles were untied and he immediately rubbed them to get the circulation flowing again before he stood up. His steps were a little shaky at first but all of that was quickly pushed aside, as he untied Jesse and helped him to stand. He wrapped his arm around his waist and Jesse's arm around his shoulder. He could feel how much weight he was putting on him and that just made him worry all the more, but he would carry him if he had to. He took a few steps towards the door, and then looked over to Jesse. He nodded and tried to do something that looked like a smile, though with his slightly healed split lip, that just made him wince.

One of the guards held the door open and Patrik was surprised to see that the party was still going strong in the VIP room. He hadn't been in there very long. It had sure as hell _seemed _like hours, but it couldn't have been more than two or three as he knew the place was completely empty by 4am. He leaned Jesse against the doorframe and looked back towards Nikolaj, "Don't suppose I can have his things back?" 

Nikolaj glanced at the things on the desk next to him, "Come get them." He picked up the gun, "Except this, of course." 

Patrik made sure that Jesse could support himself before walking over to the desk, putting the wallet and phone into his pockets. He picked up the knife and glanced at Nikolaj, keeping his expression as neutral as he possibly could, though he was sure that at least some of the anger was still there. 

Nikolaj chuckled, holding Jesse's gun not pointed at him, but casually in front of them, "That's stupider than even you are." 

Patrik slipped the knife into his pocket, "I don't know what you mean." He picked up the four hundred-euro notes that Nikolaj had 'paid' him and turned to meet his eyes, for just a moment there was a flash of something there, maybe lust, maybe something else, he couldn't define it and he didn't want to understand it. It was too close to whatever was curling up in the pit of his stomach, and he didn't want to admit that. He stuffed the bills in his back pocket. Without a word, he walked back to Jesse and lead him out of the office. He could feel Nikolaj's eyes on him the whole time, but he willed himself not to look back, not to stop until they were outside beside his car. 

He helped Jesse get into the passenger's seat, for the moment ignoring all the grunts and groans every movement was causing him. Once in, he pulled the seatbelt across him and watched the wince on his face as it pressed against his chest. Broken ribs, at least. He hoped it wasn't too much more than that, but there was only one way to find out. He got in the driver's side, started the car, and turned off the music. He asked the GPS for the closest hospital, and headed in that direction. 

It was ten minutes into the drive before Jesse spoke, his voice scratchy and hoarse from disuse, "I liked that gun."

Patrik just rolled his eyes.


End file.
